his wife said. "You should get back to bed."
Bender held his hands out. "Cuff me. Take me in. They got a doctor that comes around, right?"
I put the cuffs on Bender and looked over at Lula. "Is there a doctor?"
"They got a ward at St. Francis."
"I bet I got anthrax," Bender said. "Or smallpox."
"Whatever it is, it don't smell good," Lula said.
"I got diarrhea. And I'm throwing up," Bender said. "I got a runny nose and a scratchy throat. And I think I got a fever. Feel my head."
"Yeah, right," Lula said. "Looking forward to that opportunity."
He swiped at his nose with his sleeve and left a smear of snot on his pajama top. He hauled his head back and sneezed and sprayed half the room.
"Hey!" Lula yelled. "Cover up! You never heard of a hankie? And what's with that sleeve thing?"
"I'm gonna be sick," Bender said. "I'm gonna puke again."
"Get to the toilet!" his wife yelled. She grabbed a blue plastic bucket off the floor. "Use the bucket."
Bender stuck his head in the bucket and threw up.
"Holy crap," Lula said. "This is the House of Plague. I'm outta here. And you're not putting him in my car, either," she said to me. "You want to take him in, you can call a cab."
Bender pulled his head out of the bucket and held his shackled hands out to me. "Okay, I'm better now. I'm ready to go."
"Wait for me," I said to Lula. "You were right about God."
"IT WAS A drive to get here, but it was worth it," Lula said, licking salt off the rim of her glass. "This is the mother of all margaritas."
"It's therapeutic, too. The alcohol will kill any germs we might have picked up from Bender."
"Fuckin' A," Lula said.
I sipped my drink and looked around. The bar was filled with the after-work crowd. Most of them were my age. And most of them looked happier than me.
"My life sucks," I said to Lula.
"You're just saying that because you had to watch Bender throw up in a bucket."
This was partially true. Bender throwing up in a bucket did nothing to enhance my mood. "I'm thinking about getting a different job," I said. "I want to work where these people work. They all look so happy."
"That's because they got here ahead of us, and they're all snockered."
Or it could be that none of them were being stalked by a maniac.
"I lost another pair of handcuffs," I said to Lula. "I left them on Bender."
Lula tipped her head back and burst out laughing. "And you want to change jobs," she said. "Why would you want to do that when you're so good at this one?"
IT WAS ELEVEN o'clock and most houses on my parents' street were dark. The Burg was early to bed and early to rise.
"Sorry about Bender," Lula said, letting the Trans Am idle at the curb. "Maybe we could tell Vinnie he died. We could say we were all set to bring Bender in, and he died. Bang. Dead as a doorknob."
"Better yet, why don't we just go back and kill him," I said. I opened the door to leave, caught my toe in the floor mat, and fell out of the car, face first. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the stars. "I'm fine," I said to Lula. "Maybe I'll sleep here tonight."
Ranger stepped into my line of sight, grabbed hold of my denim jacket, and pulled me to my feet. "Not a good idea, babe." He looked over at Lula. "You can go now."
The Trans Am laid rubber, and disappeared from view.
"I'm not drunk," I said to Ranger. "I only had one margarita."
His fingers were still curled into my jacket, but he softened his grip. "I understand you're having rabbit problems."
"Fucking rabbit."
Ranger grinned. "You are definitely drunk."
"I'm not drunk. I'm on the verge of being happy." I didn't exactly have the whirlies, but the world wasn't totally in focus, either. I leaned against Ranger for support. "What are you doing here?"
He released my jacket and wrapped his arms around me. "I needed to talk to you."
"You could have called."
"I tried calling. Your phone isn't working."
"Oh yeah. I forgot. It was in the car when the car blew up."
"I did some investigating on Dotty and came up with some names to check out."
"Now?"
"Tomorrow. I'll pick you up at eight."
"I can't get into the bathroom until nine."
"Okay. I'll pick you up at nine-thirty."
"Are you laughing? I can feel you laughing. My life